


Fighting Your Reflection

by skargasm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fanart, M/M, October Prompt Challenge, Prompt Fic, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Spook Me Multi-Fandom Halloween Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27200347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Written for livejournal community Spook Me 2020.The Pack is trapped in a haunted house with no way to escape. Stiles finds himself fighting off what appear to be mutant werewolves whilst trying to untangle his relationship with Peter.Based loosely on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Fear, Itself” episode.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116
Collections: Spook Me Ficathon 2020





	1. Fighting Your Reflection Main Banner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mephistopholes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephistopholes/gifts), [TummySassAndAss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TummySassAndAss/gifts).



[ ](https://imgur.com/Kv5HR1F)


	2. 110% Your Fault!

“For the record, this is 110% your fault and if I die, I am coming back to haunt you!” Stiles hissed at Peter, peering through the small slats into the darkness of the hallway. He couldn’t _see_ anything but that didn’t mean they were safe to leave. That was even if they could leave. “And just what is that poking me in the ass? Because it better be a torch or something, buddy, otherwise – “

“Now, Stiles – it’s a perfectly normal reaction and I can hardly be blamed when you have your ass pressed so firmly against me!”

“That’s because this closet is so damned small, and why would you be showing any interest in my ass? You had your chance and if I recall correctly, you spent the _entire_ night on your god-damned phone!” Stiles gasped when Peter pressed a little tighter against him, cursing the fact that regardless of knowing the other man was a complete and utter asshole, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from responding.

“I did not ignore you the whole night!”

“Peter – I spoke to the waiter more than I spoke to you! I even got the guy’s phone number and you didn’t even notice!” 

“I can explain!”

“Really? Now is the time to explain to me why you asked me out on a date and then ignored me for the entire night?” 

“Well, we do seem to finally be alone and have some time on our hands.” Stiles didn’t need to be facing the other man to know exactly the smirk he had on his face. 

“I hate your face!” He said vehemently.

“Fair enough, but can I still explain?” With a heavy sigh, Stiles realised there was nothing he could do to stop Peter from explaining. Whatever the hell those things had been, they didn’t seem to have followed he and Peter down this corridor, for which he was most grateful.

* * *

_Earlier that evening…._

When he had received the call from Derek, telling him that there had been an incident at the local haunted house, he had initially thought the werewolf was joking. But apparently, no, there were approximately sixteen people trapped in this god-damned house, completely unable to escape and in need of rescuing. And, of course, because Scott was dating a college student, he had been in attendance at said party and was trapped inside. He had managed to call Derek to apprise him of the situation before his cell cut out, but had neglected to give any real details.

Stiles had told him nothing good would come of going to a Halloween party, but had he listened? No, of course he hadn’t. No one listened to Stiles, no matter how many times he proved to be correct. He was so going to hammer the fact into Scott’s skull if they made it out of there alive. 

By the time Stiles turned up at the address Derek had given him, everyone else had paired up and he was left with dick-breath – which, rude, especially as Boyd and Erica knew just why he was avoiding being alone with Peter for any length of time. Isaac couldn’t give two shits about Stiles’ comfort, so he wouldn’t have put it past him to deliberately choose to be paired with Derek just to leave Stiles in just this position. 

Lydia had refused to come – something about her Banshee powers going wonky over Halloween – and Kira was their back-up in case anything went wrong. Just why they decided that the squishy human should go into the ominous-looking, dilapidated building instead of the kitsune with the magic sword was anyone’s guess, but Derek had refused to listen to his arguments.

“Look, Stiles – whatever is in there, its stopping anyone from getting out. Including Scott. So, we need to get in there, deal with it, and set all of these people free before something awful happens.”

“That’s it? That’s the extent of your plan? Do you even _know_ what’s in there? Have you considered that we might just be providing it with more sustenance by going in there? I don’t know about you werewolves, but I’m a god-damned snack and don’t want to be on the menu!” Erica had snickered at his statement, and he was pretty sure Peter had muttered under his breath that he agreed, but Derek had been adamant. 

“We get in, we get everyone out – what more of a plan do we need?” Derek said, arms folded over his chest.

“Why did Scott call you?”

“I don’t know! He said something about you wallowing in a vat of ice cream and not wanting to bother you – “

“Fine, fine, I get it. Let’s just – get this over with, shall we?” Hefting his baseball bat over his shoulder, and ignoring the smirk on Peter’s face, he had headed towards the front door. 

Upon entering the house, nothing had seemed particularly amiss. The huge hallway was covered in cobwebs and there were a couple of lame looking skeletons hanging off the walls, but it hadn’t looked particularly threatening or ominous. However, there was something in the air – the scent of ozone or perhaps brimstone – and of course, the fact that despite knowing that there was meant to be some kind of party going on, there was **no one** around. There was no music, no sounds whatsoever, and it all made it seem kinda eerie. 

The hair on the back of Stiles’ neck was standing on end and all he wanted to do was turn and leave, but before he could follow through, Derek had turned to close the door.

“Don’t close the – “ The door slammed, the sound echoing through the house and Stiles wanted to facepalm. 

“Why shouldn’t I close the door?” Derek asked, stepping forward so that he was stood next to Stiles. 

“Oh, I don’t know – because your amazing plan relies on herding everyone out of it, and holy shit, its disappeared!” Just as he had said, the door had completely vanished – instead, they were faced with a plain wall, covered in cobwebs and looking like it had been there all along. “Everyone else is seeing this, right? I mean – this isn’t some weird nightmare I’m having?”

“If you’re having the nightmare, I’m right with you, Batman,” Erica replied, moving closer to Boyd.

“Shit! I didn’t think – “

“Well there’s half your problem right there – you don’t think,” Stiles snapped at Derek.

“How was I meant to know the door would disappear?” Derek complained. 

“Fuck it – let’s just find these people. Let’s call Scott’s cell – maybe we’ll hear the ringtone and it will give us a clue which direction to go in,” Stiles said, already searching through the pocket of his hoody for his cell. He pressed his finger to the unlock section on the back, cursing beneath his breath when the cell lit up but there was no service. “I got no service – anyone else?”

Erica, Boyd and Isaac shook their heads, whilst Derek was still searching for his cell in his pockets. Peter turned his cell so that Stiles could see that there was no service on it before sliding it into the front pocket of his tight jeans with a sinuous motion that caught Stiles’ attention far too easily. That was just great – absolutely perfect. 

“Everyone spread out in your pairs and try to find the people. Isaac and I will go to the basement – “

“Er – “

“Boyd and Erica, you have this floor – Peter and Stiles do the first floor. Everyone good?” Derek said, already moving towards the back of the house where presumably the entrance to the basement was.

“How come we get the creepy basement? Can’t we make Peter and Stiles do that – “ Isaac could be heard arguing even as he followed Derek. 

“Good luck, Batman – and maybe, give the guy a chance to talk to you?” Erica said before grabbing Boyd’s hand and heading off. Leaving Stiles with the Lazarus wolf himself. God-damn it.

* * *


	3. Mutant Werewolves

The main stairwell reminded Stiles strongly of the house from the haunting of Hill House – impressive, but not somewhere he particularly wanted to be on Halloween. Peter followed him silently up the stairs, and Stiles turned once to see that he was ogling his ass. He refrained from commenting – just – keeping his eyes open for anything strange – or stranger. 

He poked at one of the suits of armour on the landing, impressed when it made a heavy sound. 

“Looks like the decorations got better the further into the house you go,” he commented, and Peter smiled.

“Unfortunately, Stiles, I do believe this wasn’t part of the student decorating committee. Have you not noticed how things have changed as we’ve come up the stairs?” At Peter’s comment, Stiles looked around and realised that the house did seem different – less frat-house, more spooky mansion. Which again, didn’t make him feel particularly happy. 

“Well that’s just creepy.”

“Keep that bat handy,” Peter advised, stepping up so that he was right at Stiles’ side. 

“Is that your super wolfy senses telling you something dodgy is happening?”

“No – that’s my vague common sense that most of the Pack don’t seem to possess telling me that this is not a normal occurrence. I wish I’d had the chance to look further into the property before I came but Derek said it was urgent so – “ Peter shrugged, looking down the right corridor. Stiles followed his gaze, gulping when he saw that a strange mist seemed to be coming in from the window at the end of the corridor. 

“Are you seeing that too?”

“The creepy fog-like mist that appears to be heading straight for us? Why, yes, I am seeing that.” Peter turned to him, putting his hand over Stiles’ mouth. “And before you come out with a wise-cracking comment, may I advise that you be careful what you say? There are occasions when simply saying something out loud can cause it to manifest and I really don’t think I want to deal with whatever lives in your subconscious at this point.”

Stiles nodded and Peter removed his hand.

“Rude.”

“I’ll apologise if you can honestly tell me you weren’t going to say something that could have blown back onto us?”

“Fair point. Right or left?” he said, pointing in each direction.

“Let’s head _away_ from the creeping mist in the first instance, shall we?” With a nod and a twist of his wrist that brought his baseball bat satisfyingly close to Peter’s face, Stiles turned to the left and moved forwards. 

They hadn’t made it far before a subvocal growl came from further down the hallway, the menacing sound making Stiles instinctively step behind Peter. 

“What the – “ As they both watched, one of the doorways to the side opened and out stepped – _something_. It looked vaguely like a werewolf in a full shift, bipedal, hairy – obligatory huge fangs with saliva dripping from its open mouth. But it didn’t look like any werewolf Stiles had ever seen before and judging by the sound that came from Peter he wasn’t alone. 

The thing turned towards them, its eyes gleaming a sickly pale yellow colour. Behind it, another appeared and then two more. There seemed to be no end to the creatures that were coming out of the room and Stiles vaguely wondered if there was a creepy mutant werewolf factory in the house that they hadn’t been informed of. 

“Should we – “

“I’m not sure if running will trigger the urge to chase and kill,” Peter murmured back, hands nevertheless urging Stiles backwards. 

“I don’t think we need to trigger anything – those things look like they want to kill us regardless of whether we run or not!” Stiles took another look over Peter’s shoulder, a thought occurring to him. “Does that look like – is that one wearing Derek’s Henley?”

It was true – the werewolf creatures seemed to be wearing the clothes that their pack-mates had been wearing when they had arrived at the house, but none of them looked _right_.

“Derek – “ Peter said and the lead werewolf fixed him with a malevolent glare. “Nephew, if you are in there – “

The only response was an even louder growl, the creature cracking its head from side to side as though preparing to attack. At its side, Isaac, Boyd and Erica spread out as much as the corridor allowed, all of them glaring in Peter and Stiles’ direction. Stiles took a look behind him, gasping when he saw that not only was the mist gaining on them but somehow a new staircase had appeared as if from nowhere.

“Er, Peter?”

“Not now, Stiles, I’m engaged in a stare down with a rather feral looking relative,” Peter replied.

“Yeah, but – new plan – let’s go!” Dragging Peter by the collar, Stiles turned and ran towards the new staircase, jumping up onto the bottom step to avoid the mist that seemed to be sentient and chasing them. Peter overtook him, grabbing Stiles’ hand and tugging him along behind him. There were no signs of pursuit but even so, they both ran as though they were being chased by the hounds of hell.

At the top of the staircase, there was another corridor, eerily similar to the one they had just left. At least there was no mist coming from the window this time. Looking behind him, Stiles could see that stairway they had just climbed was slowly being consumed by the creepy fog and he shuddered. The way that stuff seemed to be following them was so many different levels of wrong.

“What do we do?”

“Hide!” said Peter, pulling Stiles along the corridor and beginning to open and close doors to see if there was somewhere safe. The first room revealed a clown in a large jack-in-a-box and Stiles let out a shriek upon seeing it, causing Peter to turn and give him a disbelieving look before slamming the door shut. “Clowns? Really, Stiles?”

“Hey! Don’t shame me for my fears!” Stiles replied, opening the next door. This room was dark, with cobwebs on the walls and only the brightness of the moon through the window providing any light. “This one?” he asked but Peter shook his head, pointing to the corner. Once Peter had pointed it out, he could see something crouched there, beady eyes watching them, what looked like numerous furry legs tapping the floor. “Nope!” 

Stiles slammed the door and turned back to the corridor, trying to see if the mist had progressed to their level yet. So far, it hadn’t made it to the landing but he knew it was coming – he could feel a cold chill beneath his hoody, almost a warning.

The next door opened upon a stuffed Grizzly bear, it’s jaws wide open, frozen in an attack position. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the eyes hadn’t been moving, staring at them with a pleading expression.

“We need to get the fuck out of this place!” Stiles said, yanking Peter behind him to the next door. He could hear footsteps on the stairs, and seeing that it was an empty closet, he shoved Peter in and stepped in behind him, enclosing them in the tight space with a sense of relief. There were slats in the door and he peeked through them, seeing that the mist had indeed made it to the landing but had turned away from them and was heading down the other way. 

That just left the mutant werewolves. 

“Do you really think that was Derek? Because – “

“The eyes were wrong!” 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking! But if it wasn’t Derek – and Erica and Boyd although I’m with-holding judgement on whether that was Isaac – then what the hell were they?”

“I don’t know – I need to think.” Nodding, Stiles continued peeking through the slats while Peter muttered to himself behind him.

* * *

“So, you wanted to talk to me – talk! Better make it fast though – I think that mist has sussed that we didn’t go that way!”

“I wasn’t ignoring you – I was keeping track of your father!”

“What?”

“The night of our date – remember, there was a call about some trouble in Beacon Hills? The Sheriff told you to go ahead with our date – for which I was grateful – and I was trying to find out what it was he was walking into and hopefully head something off!” Peter said all of that in a rush, his arm coming around Stiles’ waist and resting on his hip.

“Wait, what? You were on your phone the whole time we were on a date because you were looking out for my _Dad_?”

“Well, yes. You are rather attached to your parent and I wanted to be sure that you didn’t regret our night out because something had happened to him.” Peter stepped a smidge closer, the warm line of his body pressed completely against Stiles from behind. “I managed to communicate with the leader of the _group_ and persuade him that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to get up to mischief within Beacon Hills.”

“Was **that** why they suddenly stopped wrecking that fuel station and left?” Stiles turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of Peter’s face in the darkness of the closet. 

“I agreed to certain conditions – that I have now met fortunately – and that was enough to make them see that it  
would be advantageous to keep me on side.”

“You bribed them to leave town so that we could have an uninterrupted date?” Stiles was incredulous, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. But it made sense – his Dad had said that the way the group of bikers had suddenly turned peaceful and left had been a surprise when the Sheriff’s department was clearly outmanned and potentially outgunned had been very strange. “I – I’m actually speechless!”

“Well, as you can imagine, I was less than pleased with how long it took to negotiate with them, especially as it meant that you felt ignored. It does go some way to explaining why I’ve been getting frostbite from how cold you’ve been to me lately!” Peter replied and Stiles almost felt guilty. Almost

“You know, you could have told me! I thought you were texting because you were bored and I couldn’t understand why you asked me out if that was how you felt!” With shuffling movements, he managed to turn within Peter’s embrace until they were face to face in the darkness, the warmth of Peter’s hands landing on his ass as he was tugged impossibly closer. “Should I say sorry or thank you?”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t have to apologise or thank me – it is I who should be apologising to you,” Peter replied, his voice low and husky in the darkness. Stiles leaned forward, hands reaching up to cup Peter’s face as he pressed their lips together.

“Well – sorry. And thank you. And – does that mean you actually like me?” he asked, sliding his hands into Peter’s hair. 

“Oh I **definitely** like you, Stiles,” Peter said before taking his mouth in a passionate kiss. Breathless, Stiles could do nothing but respond, his grip on Peter’s hair becoming tighter as his arousal grew quickly. “Jesus, I have waited so long to do that.”

“Oh, not as long as I’ve been wanting you to!” Stiles replied before moving back in for another kiss. He allowed his hands to slide down to Peter’s neck, cautious for the moment as he knew the neck was a sensitive area for wolves. Peter seemed to have no concerns whatsoever, growling beneath his breath as his tongue tangled with Stiles’ own and his grip on his ass got tighter. Encouraged, Stiles caressed the strong cords that stood out on Peter’s neck, before sliding down to his shoulders and squeezing the hardness beneath the thin black sweater Peter was wearing. “God, you are so hot!” he exclaimed.

“I can’t figure out if that’s a comment on my body temperature or something else – nor do I care!” Peter replied, his hands slipping underneath Stiles’ hoody and tee-shirt and sliding up his back, sensitive fingers tracing the moles he found dotted around. 

“Fuck, I don’t even know myself!” Stiles groaned, before yelping as the door was wrenched open and he was yanked backwards and turned to face – HIMSELF! “What the – “

* * *


	4. Fighting Yourself

“Stiles, duck!” Peter shouted and he instantly obeyed, narrowly avoiding being swiped by the claws of one of the mutant werewolves. But this wasn’t one that they had faced before – this was wearing a dark vee-neck sweater and tight jeans, it’s eyes gleaming yellow as it faced Peter who had fallen back into the cupboard.

“That’s you!”

“And that’s you!” Peter said in return, even as he was grabbed by his mutant doppelgänger and tossed down the corridor. Stiles would have gone to help but was struggling to get back onto his feet as he shuffled backwards away from his doppelgänger. His double was pale; deep, dark shadows under eyes that were gleaming yellow in the moonlight. 

“Do you think you can beat me, Stiles?” He shuddered, well remembering that voice. He managed to get to his feet, only to be backhanded across the face. Stiles staggered backwards, his double following him. Desperately he wished that he had managed to grab his baseball bat from the cupboard, but without it, he had little choice but to stand up to Void weaponless.

He took a swing, thanking the self-defence classes his Dad had made him take for the fact that he knew how to throw a punch properly. Still, the contact seemed to burn as he watched Void’s head snap backwards, a strange mark appearing on his face where Stiles’ hand had touched him.

He followed up as he had been taught, driving Void back down the corridor with kicks and punches. Some landed, some didn’t, but in the meantime, he had Void on the defensive. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up though. As they passed the cupboard, he darted in and grabbed his baseball bat, flinching as Void landed a blow to his ribs as he bent down. 

Enraged, he turned and swung the bat in the widest arc he could within the tight space, the satisfying CRACK! ‘as the blow landed making him smile. Void staggered backwards once more, the skin on his face a weird star-filled black where the bat had struck.

“Peter – swap!” Stiles said, a thought flashing through his mind. Thankfully, Peter did as instructed, appearing in front of Void in a full beta shift, swiping at him with his claws. Stiles ran to where mutant Peter was heading towards them, jaws agape, yellow eyes glowing madly. It reminded him so strongly of when Peter had first become Alpha after killing Laura when they had killed him the first time. Channelling all of that fear and rage, Stiles swung his bat again, catching the Peter mark II with a blow to the face that sent it careering backwards down the hall. 

“Stiles – “

“We can’t fight ourselves – we know our every move! But we **can** fight each other!” he screamed back as he followed the wolf down the hallway. At his feet, the mist was creeping backwards as though in retreat, heading back down the stairs and Stiles knew he was right in his theory. Both hands grabbing the handle of the bat, Stiles brought it down onto the Peter!double in a blow that almost caved in its head, the runes on the bat lighting up like fireworks as it landed. 

A glance over his shoulder showed that Peter had Void cornered, obviously trying to land a killing blow. Satisfied that he was safe and understood what Stiles had been trying to tell him, he turned back and smashed the bat down repeatedly onto the Peter!double’s head. As he hit it, more and more of the star-filled black appeared as his blows landed. 

It had none of Peter’s cunning or skill, trying to get past the bat but unable to reach Stiles because of the length of it and the distance he could keep whilst still attacking. 

“Let’s see how you cope with this!” Stiles shouted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of mountain ash, throwing it into the air and willing it to form a circle around the misshapen lump that had been Peter!double. As the circle formed, it let out a scream, its shape morphing into first Derek, then Erica, then Boyd. It couldn’t hold one shape for long but seemed only able to cycle through the werewolves, not turning into Void. 

Centering himself, Stiles did as Deaton had taught him, pulling his will together inside himself before aiming it at the creature in the circle. 

“Burn!” Another piercing scream and the creature began to sizzle, it’s ‘fur’ catching alight before it was writhing around within the circle of mountain ash as blue flames engulfed it. 

Eyes alight, Stiles turned to face where Peter was holding Void by the throat against the wall. 

“Get back!” he said and Peter let go instantly, stepping back just in time for the flames to speed towards the two figures before it began to attack Void. It roared with rage, half of its face already completely gone from Peter’s attacks before the flames licked up its body and consumed it entirely. 

He and Peter stood in the sudden silence of the hallway, stunned by how quickly everything happened. 

“What the hell was that?” Peter finally said, changing back to his normal visage as he walked towards Stiles. Stiles stood still and permitted Peter to check him for injuries, enjoying the concern. 

“Mutant doppelgängers is the only thing that comes to mind. I think – and I could be wrong – I think that it picks out your worst fears and manifests them. It was what you said earlier that made me think of it.” Stiles put his hand onto Peter’s shoulder as he looked into his face. “That was why first of all we both saw the pack, rejecting us, ready to kill us. Then, it got a little more personal – or picked up more information. Hence, Void for me – “

“And feral alpha for me,” Peter replied, putting his arms around Stiles. “Jesus, that was quick thinking – just part of the reason I could see myself falling quite heavily for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles turned fully into Peter’s embrace, moving the small space needed to kiss him. 

“This is where you tell me you feel the same,” Peter muttered against his lips.

“Maybe – okay, yeah, I could definitely see myself falling for the person I’ve got to know,” Stiles admitted, only the slight itch in the back of his head stopping him from kissing Peter properly. “Um – I think maybe we should find the others and warn them. They might have figured it out – “

“Or might be fighting reflections of themselves or their fears and not realise what’s going on.”

“And at some point, we need to find the centre of all of this because I guarantee that there’s some big bad feeding off of all of this fear.” Stiles turned away from Peter and reached out, calling the mountain ash back to his hand and returning it to his pocket. 

“I will never get tired of seeing you using your gifts,” Peter said, as he headed towards the staircase which was now completely clear of the mist. “Do you think we should follow this, see where it goes?”

“You think that would be better than trying to find the guys individually?”

“I think this place still has many tricks up it’s sleeve, and if we can get to the source it may be faster than trying to find our people one at a time. Somewhere in this maze are the party guests, as well as Derek and the others,” Peter said and Stiles nodded in agreement. 

“After you – after all, you had your chance to ogle my ass already.”

“And a fine ass it is too,” Peter said, stepping nimbly down the stairs with Stiles at his heels. The corridor they reached was empty of their mutant pack-mates, and they moved in the direction that the mist had originally come from, finding that it wasn’t seeping through the window as per their initial guess but was coming from one of the rooms. “Ready?” 

Stiles nodded, a handful of mountain ash in his left hand, his baseball in his right. 

Peter turned the handle and gave the door a shove, alert for absolutely anything other than what he found.

“Help me – please help me!” The figure of a small girl was curled up on the floor, dressed in what looked like a dirty night-gown, rocking back and forth.

“What the – “

“Please, mister, I’ve lost my Mommy – please will you help me?” Peter headed towards her, his arms out to lift her from the dirty ground when Stiles threw the mountain ash, surrounding the child and preventing Peter from reaching her. He turned and growled at Stiles, his face half-transformed in anger.

“Peter – snap out of it!” Stiles yelled, punching Peter in the face. Shaking his aching hand, he pointed. “Now – _really_ look at her!” Growling, Peter turned back to see that the innocent-looking, dirty child had turned into what could only be described as a warty, slimy skinned goblin-creature. 

“What the hell?!” 

Stiles stepped further into the room, looking around quickly to be sure that there were no other threats present. “I take it this is all your doing?” he asked as he carefully moved Peter aside, wanting to be sure he was completely out from under the thing’s influence and so that he could face the thing squarely.

“Filthy magic user, ruining our special night!  
So much delicious fear we’ve eaten tonight – gobbled it up and grown so strong!” it muttered, showing grey, rotten stumps for teeth and a forked tongue. “Ooh that lovely, wolfy taste – scared, are you?” Stiles frowned, realising the thing was no longer focused on him. Turning he could see that Peter was edging away, a look on his face that Stiles could not recall ever seeing. 

“Peter – ROAR!” Peter looked at him, uncomprehending, before suddenly transforming into his beta form and roaring at the cackling goblin in the mountain ash ring. Initially, there seemed to be no reaction, but as Peter grew more confident and stepped closer, his claws extended, fangs descending and eyes gleaming electric blue, the creature began to screech and shriek, shrinking further and further until there was a surreal ‘POP’ sound and it disappeared.

“Hell to the yes – way to go, Zombie-wolf!” Stiles turned triumphantly, punching his fist into the air as he grabbed Peter around the shoulders and yanked him close. 

“Liked that, did you?” Peter said and Stiles smirked.

“Scared of a little goblin creature, were you?”

“I don’t mention the clowns, you don’t mention the goblin?” Peter replied, his arms wrapping around Stiles’ waist and holding him close. Enjoying the close contact, Stiles decided not to mention that he could feel Peter was trembling slightly. 

“Fair.” Unable to resist any longer, Stiles pulled Peter into a kiss, moaning when his advances were accepted with enthusiasm. Staggering backwards, he gave a grunt when he landed up hard against the wall, smiling under the kiss when Peter pressed his entire body alongside his own as he happily mauled Stiles all over. Peter tucked his hand behind Stiles’ knee, yanking his leg up onto his hip so that they could grind against each other, his body moving against Stiles’ in so many delicious ways. Things were just getting extremely interesting when the door opened and the Pack stumbled into the room.

Isaac looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer; Derek seemed to have lost his shirt somewhere and had healing claw wounds; behind the two of them could be seen Erica, Boyd, Scott and a group of costumed party-goers.

“You mean we were fighting for our lives and you were up here making out?” Derek yelled, looking furious.

“Get it, Stiles!” came from Erica.

“Dude – not cool, Stiles!” Scott said, eyeing Peter’s hand down the back of Stiles pants with distaste. 

With a scowl and not attempting to hide the fact that he was having to rearrange a substantial erection, Stiles grabbed Peter by the hand and pulled him towards the crowd of onlookers.

“Excuse you! **We** dealt with the fear thingy – you’re welcome by the way! Someone else can figure out who the hell decided to summon the damned thing because I have plans for the rest of the night – someone owes me some expensive wining and dining, and then horizontal making out that may go much further than a ‘nice’ guy normally would.” Shoving past Scott and deliberately bumping shoulders with him, Stiles continued speaking. “Next time, **listen to me** when I tell you something is a bad idea. And you – put on a god-damned shirt!” High-fiving Erica as he passed her and nodding at Boyd, Stiles tugged an unresisting Peter behind him, knowing full well that not only was the man smirking in that irritating manner of his but was also ogling Stiles’ ass. He deliberately put an extra sway in his step as he walked determinedly out of the house and went to make the most of his night.

* * *

**fin**

* * *


End file.
